


Go Crazy from the Moment I Met You

by MarinasDiamonds (orphan_account)



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Drug Use, Louis-centric, M/M, Nurses
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-03-01
Updated: 2013-03-01
Packaged: 2017-12-04 00:09:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,161
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/704235
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/MarinasDiamonds
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Louis is a nursing student who's getting his degree in Boston. Harry Styles won the X Factor in 2010 and has made some poor choices that land him in Louis' care during a lackluster US Tour.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi so this is my first story in the 1D fandom! I hope you don't mind my Boston AU (:

Louis pulled his beat up sedan into the parking lot behind the apartment building and groaned to himself. The only spots open in the lot were parallel to the curb, and even after two years of driving on the opposite side of the road and the car, he still hadn’t quite got the hang of parallel parking from his weak side. He finally managed the feat after several tries and felt quite satisfied with himself. He opened his glovebox and took out the wad of cash, stuffing it in his jeans pocket. The apartment building was seedy and he wasn’t exactly doing something within the boundaries of the law. Louis adjusted his hat over his hair and opened the side door, checking to see if there was anyone watching him. No one was around except for a couple drunks outside the bar across the street. Perfect, he thought. 

 

He took his school bag from the passenger seat and slung it over his shoulder. It held his scrubs and his charts and notebooks for nursing school and it was his life. School was pretty much all he had going for him. Louis locked the car and turned to walk into the building, but something caught his eye. Across the street, a tall, lanky young man was emptying his stomach on the pavement. Charming. Louis went to walk into the building when he decided to take a look because honestly that vomit looked a bit dark. He peered closer and yep, that was definitely blood. The guy coughed wetly and slumped to the ground. There was no one outside anymore; the kid was alone. Louis swore softly to himself and hurried across the street. 

“Hey! Are you all right?” he called, not really expecting an answer from the prone figure. The kid groaned and clutched his stomach. Dribbles of blood flecked his chin and shirt, causing Louis to begin to freak, just a bit. He was only in his second year of nursing school and he’d just started his clinicals. If there was something seriously wrong with the guy, he’d have to go to the hospital. Louis crouched next to him and laid his hand on the man’s shoulder. He couldn’t have been more than 19 or 20, somewhere around Louis’ own age. Too young to be at a bar, Louis thought, but that could just be a baby face. Either way, he was deliciously attractive. Louis quickly pushed that thought from his mind and focused on the task at hand. Right. Assess the situation. Check his vitals.

“Ok, I can help you. I’m a nurse. Well, I’m a nursing student. But I can help. Is that all right?” Louis asked gently, not wanting to startle him. 

“S’alright, mate. I’ll be fine. Happens all the time,” the boy replied, his British accent shocking Louis. There weren’t too many Brits in the greater Boston area to his knowledge. At least not too many in Amherst. 

Louis chuckled nervously. This was a regular occurrence? His mind rushed around, probably cirrhosis, definitely alcohol poisoning, he thought. After all, he was outside a bar. His reverie was interrupted by his fellow limey spitting up more blood. Louis jumped into action, pulling the inebriated boy to his feet. He was maybe an inch or two taller than Louis but he seemed much larger, what with the vomiting blood and whatnot all over the place. Louis supported his weight, holding him up under his armpits before hoisting him up to his feet and wrapping his arms around his waist.   
“C’mon, mate. I’ll take you to a hospital. You need some help.” And a shower, and some clean clothes, he thought, appraising his companion’s dirty appearance. Maybe he was homeless, who knows?

The boy mumbled his ascent and began to stumble along with Louis help.

“That’s it, just across the street here. My car’s the green one, see?” The drunken boy nodded, murmuring incoherently. Yes, Louis was definitely worried. He’d been in university in America for 3 years; he knew alcohol poisoning when he saw it. The boy stumbled to the driver’s side of the car and tried to get in. Louis rushed up behind him and guided him to the passenger side.

“Wrong side, yeah?”

“Where’m I?” the boy asked, looking around. 

Louis sighed. Great, he’s disoriented too. 

“Cambridge, love. You’re in Cambridge.”

“No, s’not right, I’m meant to be in America. In Massa-mass—oh fuck it, Boston”. 

Louis pinched the bridge of his nose. This was why he got high instead of getting drunk. He hated not being unaware of his surroundings. 

“You are in Boston. Well, you’re outside of Boston. By Harvard, to be exact.”

“That’s good,” the boy mumbled, collapsing into the passenger seat. Louis buckled him in, shut the door and walked around to his side of the car. He stuck the keys in the ignition and revved it. 

“I’m taking you to Massachusetts General; that’s where I do my training,” he said, realizing he didn’t know the boy’s name. 

“Oi,” he said, tapping the dozing boy on the shoulder. “What’s your name, then?”

“Harry,” he mumbled, wrinkling his brow. 

“Ok, Harry. My name’s Louis. We’ll get you to the hospital and things’ll be all right.” Louis still couldn’t really believe that he now had a total stranger in his car, he’d meant to just go pick up an eighth of kush but now he’s a good Samaritan, instead of a college kid buying bud. 

Louis maneuvered the car around the city streets and parked in the student parking lot for Mass General. He got Harry out of the car and walking. Fortunately he was doing an emergency department rotation so he knew triage and everyone upfront quite well, as well as the staff of nurses and doctors in the back. Louis guided Harry through the revolving doors of the emergency department and up to the check-in desk. Irene was working, a kindly Jewish mom in her late 40’s. 

“Lou!” she exclaimed when she saw him. “What’s this?”

Louis contemplated what to say. He couldn’t exactly say why he’d been lurking around a seedy neighborhood of Boston, not while so much was riding on how he did during his clinicals. “A friend of mine. A bit worse for wear, I’m afraid. He’s got alcohol poisoning, I think. He’s vomiting blood.”

Irene started clicking away at her computer. “Does he have identification?” she asked.

Shit. Louis had forgotten about that. “Harry, have you got an ID?” he asked. Harry moaned and started grappling at his pocket. 

“No, don’t worry, I’ll get it,” Louis said as he noticed the boy struggling. He reached into Harry’s front pocket and pulled out a leather wallet, his hand tingling from the heat of Harry’s thigh. He flipped it open and grabbed the ID and about shit his pants.

“Oh, fuck me, you’re Harry Styles?!” he cried, looking at the drunk mess next to him who was apparently a a massively famous British pop star. 

“Guilty,” Harry mumbled.

“What is it? What’s going on?” Irene asked. Louis sighed and explained to her about Harry winning the X Factor 3 years ago and his fame in Britain. “His music hasn’t quite caught on in the States,” he finished. Irene nodded as she entered his information before handing the ID back to Louis, who discreetly checked it. Harry was only two years younger than Louis, definitely too young to have been drinking. Louis had just turned 21 himself in December and was just now legal to drink in the US. Not that it had stopped him before, he mused. 

Irene reached out and put a white plastic wristband around Harry Fucking Styles’ wrist. 

“Lou, do you want to go back with him or wait out front? Either’s fine.”

Louis appraised the boy he’d just claimed as his friend. He was the bloody X Factor champ from the year Louis had tried out, who didn’t seem to know if he was in America or England. “Yeah I had better go back with him,” he said, standing. 

“C’mon, Harry,” Louis said, taking him by the arm through the automated door back into the bustling ER. 

As the pair walked through the emergency department, Louis tried to take everything in from the patient’s perspective. The hustle and bustle, the beeping, the squawking of the intercom, no wonder Harry looked intimidated. Louis let them be led to Bay 8 which was cordoned off by a pastel curtain. Louis got Harry settled on the bed and then went to see which supervisor was on duty. Luckily, it was Kim, the single mom who was a pothead like himself.

“Hey, Kim, um I just brought my friend in, do you think he could be seen?” Louis asked, hoping to call in a favor. 

“Louis we’re so understaffed right now, honestly unless you scrub up he won’t be seen for at least an hour. Is he the one with alcohol poisoning?”

“Well, I think he has alcohol poisoning, I’m not sure.”

“Until there’s some spare students or honestly anyone, he’s not gonna get a blood draw for a while, it’ll take some time to even get an IV in him,” she said, looking regretful. “I’m sorry, Louis, I know he’s your friend.”

Louis knew immediately what he had to do. “You said I could scrub up?” he asked. He was determined to help Harry. 

Kim looked surprised. “I mean, if you want to. We could certainly use an extra pair of hands. I can’t say it’ll affect your grade but it’s probably the easiest way to help your friend.”

Louis nodded, resolute. “I’ll do it. My scrubs are in my bag.” 

“Go change, then,” Kim said, turning back to her charts. “And you can start by getting some saline in your friend.”

Louis grabbed his bag and rushed to the locker room, shucking his tee shirt off as he went. This was what he lived for, helping others. He pulled on his maroon scrubs and put his lanyard with his nametag on. Louis scrubbed up to his elbows and walked back to Harry’s bay. The pop star was curled up on the hospital mattress, looking more pathetic than Louis had ever seen him in any pap photos. 

“Hi, Harry?” Louis said softly.

Harry moaned and rolled over. “Oh. It’s you,” he said. 

“Harry I’m going to give you an IV. It’ll make you feel better, I promise.”

“You’re a doctor?”

“No, Harry, I’m a nursing student,” Louis said, rolling his eyes. He’d never be able to pass drug tests for medical school. 

“Guys aren’t nurses,” Harry murmured, smirking at Louis. Louis sighed and began preparing the saline solution.

“Well this guy can stick a number of pins in your arse for any given reason, so I’d keep it shut about gender roles, alright?”

Harry chuckled and Louis thought he might be sobering up a little. He finished preparing the bag and moved to Harry’s left side.

“Ok Harry I’m going to put this IV in your arm and get you rehydrated. You’ll start to feel a lot better soon.”

Louis smiled at the pop star, finding it hard to believe that Harry Goddamn Styles had been puking his guts out across the street from where Louis was buying weed. He swabbed the crook of Harry’s arm gently with an alcohol pad before exploring the pale flesh with probing fingers, looking for a vein. Louis had always been rather good with needles, unlike some of the other nursing students who were still practicing on pears and dummies. Louis was suddenly struck with the intimacy of the moment. He could feel Harry’s blood fluttering underneath his fingers, the warmth of his skin seeping into Louis tanned fingers. Harry looked up at him from under dark lashes, green eyes locked to blue. Louis felt his breath catch in his chest. What the hell? It was like he’d grabbed a live wire, he felt electricity coursing through him the longer he held onto Harry’s arm. 

Their idyll was interrupted by what Louis fondly referred to as the Irish Hurricane. Niall Horan burst into the room, wearing a dark blue jumpsuit with patches sewn onto the sleeves and chest.

“What’s this, then? Thought you had the night off, boy-o,” the EMT said, looking at Louis like he’d sprouted a second head. 

“I did, Niall, but some of us have problems leaving work at work,” Louis said, the spell broken. Niall was one of his best friends; he worked at the local rescue station on the ambulance and they ran into each other when Louis had clinicals in the emergency department. 

“It’s bad for your health, mate. I would’ve thought you’d be over at Zayn’s,” Niall said, looking confused. Louis had told him about his plans to pick up and had mentioned something about Niall coming over later to chill with him and Zayn. 

“Well,” Louis said as he opened the needle and attached it to the line that went into the IV bag, “I was actually in the parking lot and I saw this one here throwing up blood at Hammerhead’s. So I took him here.” Louis’s IV was all set up and he took a deep breath. Moment of truth.

“Just a little pinch now, Harry,” he said, sliding the needle into the pop star’s arm. Perfect. Harry let out a shuddering breath and closed his eyes.

“Don’t like needles.” Louis hummed sympathetically at him and opened the line, allowing the saline solution to drip down into Harry’s arm. He taped the line to the younger boy’s arm so it wouldn’t get tangled. 

“Oi, is he British?” Niall said, looking at Harry with a confused expression.

Louis opened his mouth to speak but Harry beat him to it. 

“God Save the Queen.”

Niall whooped and bounded over to the hospital bed and clapped Harry on the shoulder. 

“Jesus, Nialler, gentle with my patient,” Louis admonished. 

“I’m Niall Horan, mate. How long have you been over here, then?”

Harry groaned and squinted his eyes. “Shit, well if I’m in Boston it’s got to be like, two weeks or so?”

Niall gaped at him. “Just off the boat then! I suppose that as a visitor to these fair shores you’ve not had a proper good time yet. You should come out with Lou and I,”

Louis glared ominously at his friend. Harry Fucking Styles wasn’t going to sit around in Louis’ shitty apartment with Louis’ friends and hit the bong. 

“What’s your name?” Niall asked and Louis turned to watch his friend’s facial expression when he learned who Louis’ patient was.

“Erm, I’m Harry. Harry Styles.”

Niall’s eyes bugged out of his head. “You’re taking the piss, mate. Harry Styles won the X Factor, didn’t he?”

“That’s right, I did,” Harry chuckled, running a hand through his hair. 

Niall looked like he was about to explode with questions when the radio velcroed to his uniform crackled.   
“Shit, Lou, got to run. We’ve got another call,” he said, flipping the dial on his radio. 

“It was nice to meet you, Harry Styles,” Niall said, smiling a megawatt smile at the pop star before leaving the room. 

As soon as Niall left, Kim stuck her head in the room, her blonde hair piled precariously on top of her head. She looked unbelievably stressed, and Louis felt bad for her. He knew that the night shifts were hard on her and that she wanted to be home with her daughters. 

“Oh, good, you’ve got the line in him. Can you take a blood panel? We’ll run it and see if there’s anything else wrong besides too much alcohol,” she said, shooting an admonishing look towards Harry. 

“Sure thing, Kim.”

“You know where to drop off the vials when you’re done. Then if you want to assist with a cath in 3 I’d be grateful.”

“Grateful enough to bring me a coffee?” Louis asked. Catheterizations were nasty business and he wasn’t even supposed to be on the floor right now. By rights, he should be at home, stoned and chilling with his mates. He couldn’t really say he minded, though. Harry Styles was delicious looking and Louis thought that maybe, possibly, they might have a connection. 

“Caramel swirl, extra extra?” 

“Right. Thank you, Kim,” Louis said, flashing her a smile. 

“No problem. I hope you feel better,” she said, looking at Harry. “Next time go a little easier on the sauce.”

The curtain closed behind her and Louis began to prepare the vials for the blood draw. They would find out if Harry had any blood poisoning or something more serious wrong with him. 

“Alright, I’ve got to take three vials of blood, but don’t worry, they’re small.” Louis glanced over at Harry, who had gone paler if possible.

“I can use the butterfly needle. It’s the one we use on kids,” he said, feeling sympathy for Harry. 

Harry nodded, looking relieved. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to be a pain. I just fucking hate needles.”

Louis smiled kindly at him. “You’d be surprised how common that fear is. I used to be afraid of them too, but then I started handling them and I realized that it’s just metal. All the power we give them is in our heads.”

“Right, but they’re sharp,” Harry retorted.

“Ok, yeah, I’ll give you that one. I’ll try not to hurt you,” Louis said, swabbing Harry’s other arm with an alcohol wipe. He tied a rubber tourniquet around Harry’s defined bicep and maybe let his fingers linger along his arm a bit longer than necessary. 

Louis took a calming breath and started the blood draw. He watched as the dark red liquid poured into the vial. It really didn’t bother him any more. Harry, on the other hand, was gasping for breath. Louis shushed him, and stroked his arm with his fingers.

“It’s alright, Harry. Just a bit longer. It doesn’t hurt, does it?” Louis asked, afraid he’d hurt the boy.

“N-no, it doesn’t really hurt it’s just uncomfortable.”

“I know.”

Harry reached the arm with the IV in it across his midsection and grabbed Louis’ wrist. Louis switched the vial into his other hand and ran his fingers softly across Harry’s knuckles, only moving them to switch the vials.

“See? All done.” Louis said, smiling at his patient.

“Are you usually this gentle?” Harry asked.

“Only at work,” Louis said, and then winked. He immediately blushed bright red. What had gotten into him?


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> going to /try/ to get one more chapter up before I go see my boyfriend this weekend. Expect more chapters on Monday!

The night passed in a blur, with Louis running in to check on Harry as much as he could without arousing suspicion. He’d gotten in the habit of sticking his head through the curtain and making faces at Harry just to get him to laugh as he sobered up. Harry’d only thrown up one more time and he was starting to become much more lucid. Louis learned that Harry’s US tour was mainly at casinos and convention centers, with a couple university arenas thrown in for good measure. His handlers didn’t really care where he was, well, except for Liam, Harry had explained. Liam had been his friend since Harry won the X Factor when Liam was a production assistant. Now, Liam was Harry’s personal assistant/mother hen and he was sure to be properly pissed with Harry when he found out he’d ended up in another hospital for alcohol poisoning. 

Louis dropped a tray of urine samples off in the lab and went to clock off for his break. Technically he wasn’t supposed to be really doing anything with the patients during his half hour break, but he knew Kim wouldn’t chew him out for being in Harry’s room. He straightened his scrubs and made his way towards Harry’s curtained-off room. 

“Hey there,” Louis said as he slid into the room. Harry was laying in bed and flipping through the channels on the TV looking awfully bored. Louis sat in the chair by the bed and poured some ice chips from a container into a Dixie cup. 

“Want some ice chips?” Louis asked, stirring them around with a spoon. 

Harry nodded and after a second, a shit-eating grin appeared on his face. “Are you going to feed them to me?”

Louis blushed bright red, no doubt looking ridiculous, he thought. 

“I mean, I suppose if you need me to-“ he sputtered. Harry laughed at him. 

“You’re cute when you blush,” Harry said, his wide green eyes sparkling at Louis. 

“You’re cute all the time,” Louis blurted out, quickly smacking his hand over his mouth. “I am so sorry. That was completely unprofessional.”

Harry grinned at him, looking for all the world like the Cheshire Cat. “You don’t have to apologize. I liked it.”

Their eyes locked for a long minute, blue searching green. Louis hadn’t had feelings for someone in quite a while, and they hadn’t been returned in quite some time either. 

Harry broke their silence. “So are you going to feed me those ice chips or what?” Louis blushed again, up to his roots. He nodded mutely and scooped up some of the chips and brought the spoon to Harry’s mouth, his hand shaking slightly. Harry never took his eyes off Louis as he wrapped his lips around the spoon and sucked the ice chips into his mouth. It was one of the more erotic things to happen to Louis, not because there was skin on skin contact, but because of the intimacy and want in Harry’s eyes. Louis lowered the spoon and gulped. He felt tingly all over, like he’d had a brush with electricity.

Harry smiled leisurely at him. “I reckon you saved me earlier, Nurse Louis. Who knows what would have happened if you hadn’t been there.”

Louis grumbled his response, “’M not a nurse, not yet. Still have to finish this year, take a summer semester, graduate, and sit for the boards.”

“Sounds like an awful lot of university for one person. Don’t you get tired of it?”

“No, not really. I know the end goal is worth it,” Louis mused.

“And what end goal is that?” Harry asked.

“I want to be a nurse in a pediatric oncology ward. I love kids, I love making them feel better.” Louis said, his mind far-off. 

Harry cleared his throat. “Wow. That’s like, that’s really admirable. Much more impressive than being a fading pop star,”

Louis made a dismissive noise at that. “You’re not fading, you’re just not huge in the States.”

“It is refreshing, I suppose,” Harry said, nodding. “At least I won’t get papped coming out of the hospital. Maybe we can keep this relatively quiet.”

Louis felt his cheeks redden yet again. “Well, I mean, I would never say anything.” He felt a bit hurt that Harry thought he’d try to sell the story or exploit him in some way. 

Harry backpedaled quickly. “No, I didn’t mean you. Please, you saved a complete stranger in an alley. I’m not worried about you outing me as a pathetic kid who can’t handle his alcohol.”

Louis looked long and hard at Harry. “That wasn’t a pathetic kid who couldn’t handle his liquor. That was someone who poisoned himself with alcohol,” he admonished. 

“Like you’ve never had a bad night,” Harry said crossly.

“I have but they usually end with overdrawing my debit card at the grocery store because my munchies are so bad,” Louis couldn’t believe he’d just said that. He was at work, he couldn’t be mentioning munchies. 

Harry threw his head back and laughed. “You sodding pothead,” he chortled. Louis smiled at that. He liked the familiarity that was blossoming between them. 

“So what if I am, then?” Louis laughed, and Harry nudged his arm jokingly. 

“My break’s for half an hour. Just kick me out if I bother you.”

“Why? Do you have any other devastatingly attractive patients to flirt with?” Harry asked, his eyes twinkling. 

Louis’ stomach flip flopped. “No, no I don’t.”

“Then you should stay. If you’d like,” Harry smiled at him, all white teeth and plump, pink lips that Louis couldn’t help imagine wrapped around a certain part of his anatomy. 

“So what were you doing at the bar?” Harry asked, tilting his head to the side. 

“I, well you see, I wasn’t actually going to the bar. I was going to the apartment across the street. My de-my friend’s apartment,”

“You just said dealer.”

“Did not, I said friend!”

“But you started to say dealer,” Harry laughed. 

“Ok, fine, I was on my way to conduct a transaction and I noticed your sorry arse puking all over the walls,”

“Thank you for that, by the way. Taking care of me.” Harry looked down, winding his hands in the thin hospital sheets. He looked so vulnerable, it was all Louis could do not to sweep him up into his arms and kiss the insecurity right out of him. Instead, he settled with placing a hand on Harry’s shoulder and squeezing.

“It’s nothing, yeah? I’m just glad you’re ok.”

“Yeah, well it’s been a while since someone’s actually looked out for plain old Harry, instead of Harry Styles, celebrity. So thanks, yeah?”

Louis smiled and trailed his fingers down Harry’s arm, relishing in the smoothness of his skin while trying to not be too overtly obvious about it. Harry caught his wrist and threaded their fingers together. Louis’ heart started skipping beats and he was quite worried he’d need a lie down. Harry’s palms were warm and soft but his fingers calloused from holding a microphone, in deep contrast with Louis’ own cool, dry hands. They sat like that, in silence, for a blissful few minutes when all that mattered in the world was the two of them until an alarm on Louis’ iPhone went off. 

“Damn, that’ll be the end of my break,” Louis muttered, not moving an inch. 

“Does that mean you need to go?” Harry asked softly.

“It does. But I’ll be back. I’ll see you before you get discharged,” Louis said, his face growing pale at the thought of having to say goodbye. 

“Promise?”

“Yeah, I promise,” Louis said, squeezing Harry’s hand tightly. And, in a movement that felt almost instinctive, he lifted the younger boy’s hand to his lips and brushed a feather light kiss across his knuckles before standing and leaving the room. 

Harry sat staring after him, running his fingers across the spot Louis’ lips touched for quite some time.


	3. 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi all! I hope you enjoy this chapter! I'll post more on Sunday <3 I appreciate you all reading and leaving kudos and comments, it means so much especially because I'm new to the fandom!

Louis clocked back in and almost ran over Kim on his way out of the nurse’s lounge. She had a massive Dunkin Donuts cup in her hand and she smiled widely at him. “Your friend’s getting discharged. He’s sobered up and the liver panel only came back a little elevated, nothing of concern really, so we referred him to a specialist and we’re letting him go,” she said.

Louis breathed a sigh of relief. There wasn’t anything wrong with Harry, he was just a drunk idiot, and Louis could deal with that. 

“Did he come here with you? You can take off if you want, this isn’t even one of your clinical shifts,” Kim noted, handing Louis his coffee. He took a sip and closed his eyes in delight. He was fucking thirsty and the coffee hit the spot. He’d started drinking coffee when he found he couldn’t get a decent cuppa anywhere in Boston, certainly not in the school dining hall. Now, he was addicted to it. Sure, he still had a proper kettle in his apartment, but nothing could beat iced coffee on the go. 

“So you’re sure it’s all right if I just head home?” Louis asked, unsure. He didn’t want Kim to have a bad impression of him, as she’d be writing an evaluation of his time in the emergency department. 

“Yeah, honey, go on home. Toke up for me, will ya?” Kim said, winking at him. “And tell your boyfriend not to drink so much next time,” 

Louis was left in the nurse’s lounge spluttering excuses about how he was certainly not dating Harry Bleeding Styles, with nothing but Kim’s laughter echoing down the hallway to hear him. 

He walked over to his metal locker and pulled out his bag so he could change back into his street clothes. He pulled on his dark grey jeans (his favorite pair, so what if they were a little, make that very, tight) and his striped v-neck from earlier. He slipped off his dorky white sneakers and replaced them with his signature Toms. Louis gave himself a final once over in the small mirror and decided he looked presentable at the very least. 

He walked out and found Harry signing release papers at the desk and receiving more instructions from Dr. Cowell, who was admonishing him for drinking so much. 

“Yes, sir. I understand,” Louis heard Harry say. He walked up and nodded to Dr. Cowell. 

“Are we all set to go, then?” Louis asked. He couldn’t help but notice Harry’s eyes were glued to his bum, which did look rather fantastic in his skin-tight jeans. 

“You’re good to go, Louis,” said Dr. Cowell kindly. He had taken a liking to Louis early on because Louis was so diligent about his work. “You and your friend be careful, it is the weekend. Don’t get into too much trouble,”

“Right,” Louis said, nodding at his superior. “C’mon then, Hazza, let’s go,” Louis tugged at Harry’s arm and pulled him out into the lobby.

“Hazza?”

“Harry sounds so wretchedly preppy, doesn’t it?” Louis said, grinning wickedly at the pop star. 

“I suppose it does…Lou,”

“You know that doesn’t bother me. All me friends call me Lou.”

“Well, I suppose I could get used to Hazza, if it were coming from you,” Harry said, looking away in what Louis imagined was embarrassment. 

“I’d suggest we go for a drink, but seeing as you’re not only just out of the hospital for alcohol poisoning, you’re also underage. So, if you want, we could head back to mine, you can charge your phone up a bit and we can chill for a while?” Louis suggested. 

Harry’s face broke out into a huge, toothy grin. “That sounds bloody wonderful.”

“Excellent. I’ll see what my friends are up to,” Louis said as they reached his car. “Oi, don’t forget to get in on the passenger’s side this time,” reminding Harry about his drunken blunder earlier. 

“Very funny, Lou,” Harry sneered, opening the door with force before flopping down on the seat. 

“So, where’s your flat?”

“Over by Fenway Park, if you can believe it. That’s where the Red Sox play,”

“Baseball, right?”

“Yeah. America’s pastime,”

They road in silence for a bit until Harry began flipping through cd’s and remarking loudly on Louis’ taste in music. “What is a Childish Gambino? And who in their right mind has multiple mixes of Lana Del Rey and Marina and the Diamonds unless they’re a woman?!”

“Someone who’s very comfortable with their sexuality,” Louis retorted. 

“Fair enough,” Harry said, with the good decency to look chastised. They pulled up to Louis’ apartment a bit later and Harry placed a hand on Louis’ knee to stop him from getting out of the car. 

“Look, I wasn’t trying to be a prick about the music. It’s just I guess I use humor as a defense or something.”

“That sounds like a therapy line to me,”

Harry smiled, a sad look in his eyes. “I like Lana Del Rey, if it’s any consolation.”

Louis grinned back at him. “You’re my national anthem,” he quipped. Harry’s sadness disappeared and they boys walked up to the house.

“So is this your apartment? Looks like a house, mate,” Harry said, surveying the three story home. 

“It is, but each floor is an apartment. I live on the ground floor,” Louis explained, punching in the code to the apartment. Harry took in the worn surroundings, drinking them in. Louis shuffled his feet, embarrassed. He was sure the winner of the X Factor had a much nicer place, no matter how many internal demons he had. 

“Sorry it’s a bit…”

“No, it’s wonderful,” Harry said, smiling gently at the older boy. “Smells funny though.”

Louis laughed. “That’d be the marijuana,”

Suddenly, a small gray and white cat began pawing at Harry’s leg. Louis walked over and picked up the kitten, petting her. “And this is Adele,” he said, snuggling his kitten closer. 

“Adele’s a right bitch,” Harry said, petting the cat. “The singer, not your cat. I’m sure your cat is lovely.”

Louis smiled and handed the cat to Harry, checking his buzzing phone. It was Zayn, wondering if he could come over. Louis grinned; if Zayn came over he could get some bud and Zayn’d probably smoke them all up and it’d be a great time. 

“My mate Zayn’s gonna come over, you’d probably like him. He’s a laugh,” Louis said, turning and looking for Harry, who wasn’t there. 

“In here!” Harry shouted from the living room. Louis rushed in, hoping his roommates hadn’t left something embarrassing in there. He lived with his cousins, Victoria and Ashleigh and they were a bit messy sometimes. Either way, they were family, good company, sweet, and potheads. Ashleigh was younger than him and deaf, and Victoria was his age and a gender studies major at Harvard. 

Fortunately, the living room was empty. Harry was staring at the stereo system, picking out music from the iPod in the dock. Louis heard the familiar chords echo through the speakers and he groaned. Cherry Pie boomed through the speakers and Harry stalked over to him, signing the beginning lines. 

He stood behind Louis and brushed his lips against his neck. “You can be my cherry pie, Lou,” he said. Louis could feel the wolfish grin on his neck and an unbidden shudder of desire raced through his body. Harry’s breath tickled his left ear and Louis felt like he could pass out.

No, he had to be reasonable. He wasn’t going to be treated like a groupie. He turned around resolutely and shook his head at Harry. 

“You’ll have to wine me and dine me, Mr. Styles, before I’m anyone’s dessert,” he said sassily. Harry appraised him closely for a few seconds before nodding.

“I think I can do that, Lou,”

“Am I worth it?” Louis asked, cursing his insecurity for rearing it’s ugly head right then. 

Harry caught Louis’ hand in his, engulfing it with his large hand. “I’d say so,” he whispered. 

The two boys stood there, eyes locked on each other, both unsure of where to go next. They were interrupted by a loud knocking at the door and shouts of “Open up, you shit!”

Louis laughed and pulled away from Harry. “That’ll be Zayn,” he said, turning to walk into the kitchen to let his friend in. He opened the door and greeted his exotic looking friend/drug dealer.

Zayn burst into the apartment and set his messenger bag down on the table. 

“Got some good shit for you this time,” he said, unpacking various plastic baggies. “Saved some nice blueberry kush for you, if you want it,” Louis nodded, barely noticing Harry come into the room. 

Zayn looked up at the newcomer and raised an eye at Harry’s crusty shirt. “Rough night, bro?”

Harry laughed good-naturedly and replied, “You could say so. Louis saved me from certain death in an alley.”

“You could at least get the poor guy a new shirt, Lou,” Zayn admonished. “Where are your fucking manners?”

Louis rolled his eyes at Zayn’s vulgarity. “Yeah, come on Haz, I’ll get you a shirt,” he said, tossing a wad of bills on the table. “Just take what I owe, Zayn, seriously. Don’t give me any insane deals. Please pay your rent this month, mate,”

Harry followed Louis into a small bedroom off the kitchen. It held a double bed, a red chair, a dresser and a TV. The walls were covered in vintage posters, including an Aubrey Hepburn one that amused Harry to no end. Louis grabbed one of his larger shirts, a gray henley, and tossed it to Harry.

“I’ll just wait outside, then,” Louis said, turning to go.

“It’s just skin, mate,” Harry said, stripping his disgusting shirt off quickly. Louis felt like all the air had been sucked out of the room. He knew he was staring and he knew that was rude, but he couldn’t stop himself. Harry was really, really fit and Louis hadn’t been laid in a really, really long time. 

“Like what you see?” Harry asked softly. Louis nodded, mute. He wanted to taste that pale skin, he wanted to see the contrast between his skin and Harry’s as they molded into one. Harry slowly pulled on the borrowed shirt and grinned lazily at Louis.  
“You know you’ll have to return the favor someday?” 

Louis nodded. He didn’t mind that. He didn’t mind that at all.


End file.
